Hesitation
by Cats070911
Summary: Tommy hesitates at the wrong moment for the right reason, but will this ruin his future happiness?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. This one was the product of insomnia and seemed stuck in my head, interrupting me, so I had to write it down.

* * *

"Fancy a drink?"

Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley looked up from his desk. His sergeant stood with just her hands gripping the doorframe of his office and her head poking around. A loose strand of reddish hair hung down and caught on her cotton blouse which was a size or two too small. She was as dishevelled as ever but also as beautiful. He smiled at her. She often made him smile in a lopsided, almost goofy way. No one else had ever made him smile like that. No one else had ever made him feel quite the way Barbara Havers did. He never minded looking foolish because when he smiled like that her eyes and face lit up in a way that convinced him that she returned his feelings.

"Sure. Give me five?"

"Five, not more. Not like last week." He nodded. Then he had taken nearly an hour to finish his report, but she had still waited. He would not abuse her patience twice.

"Five only," he reassured her.

Barbara smiled then disappeared. Tommy missed her already. The time was approaching when he would have to say something about his feelings for her, but he could never find the right words at the right time. His mind formed perfectly articulated arguments whenever it was inappropriate, such as sitting in Assistant Commissioner Hillier's office listening to him droning on about crime statistics, but never when they were alone.

* * *

Barbara was still grinning when she returned to her desk. Winston Nkata looked up. "So, you have your date for tonight set then?"

"Ugh. It's not a date, just a couple of pints with my boss."

"You two spend more time together than most married couples, and yet you go out after work too. I believe they call that a date."

"Whatever you need to believe Winston. I think a date is where there is some romantic interest between people. We're just friends."

Winston's eyebrows shot up before he laughed and shook his head. "You actually expect me to believe that?"

Barbara poked her tongue out. "The DI doesn't see me that way. It's just drinks."

"Then you are blind."

"Nonsense. Friends, just friends." Barbara was pleased to hear Tommy coming down the corridor. "Good night, Winston," she said as she gathered her bag and coat and headed for the door.

* * *

After their third pint, Tommy started to fiddle with his glass, spinning in his hand. "I was wondering..."

Barbara looked up and waited for him to continue. When he said nothing, she prompted him. "Wondering what?"

Tommy inhaled slowly. "Whether you'd do me the honour of accompanying me to a ball? It's for a charitable cause, to help children in Africa."

"A ball? With long gowns and dancing?"

"Yes, that's about the sum of it."

"Sir, I don't think... I'd be an appropriate partner for that sort of thing."

"Nonsense."

"Why?"

"Because you underestimate yourself."

"No, I mean why ask me? You could take anyone."

"I want to be with you."

Barbara felt her face flush with colour. "Why?"

"We enjoy each other's company. Do I need a better reason?"

She sighed. "No."

"So?"

"I meant no, I'm sorry, but no. Not a ball. If you enjoy my company, we could go to a movie or something. Not a ball."

Barbara could tell he was disappointed, but he tried to smile. "I understand."

"Good," she replied gruffly. She dared not look at him in case his eyes persuaded her to change her mind.

* * *

Barbara was not focussed on anything in particular as she walked from her flat to the tube station. In fact, she was trying too hard not to think about the evening before. It had been sweet of Tommy to invite her to the ball, but too much. She hoped he accepted her hint and, if he wanted to take her on a proper date, he could invite her to the movies. She intended to check the showings each week so that she could readily suggest a cinema and film.

"Oh my..."

Barbara looked up and saw it. She quickly glanced towards the heavens. "Is this supposed to be a sign?"

No lightning bolts or thunder answered her, so she was left to admire the gown proudly displayed in the centre of the op shop window. Emerald green and strapless with a beaded bodice and full skirt, it was far more daring than Barbara would dream of wearing. As she studied it, her objections faded. The colour was bold, but it suited her eyes and skin. It was a colour she could wear. The straplessness was not as bad as she first thought, as the tight bodice ensured her generous assets would stay in place. A thin lacy wrap in the same colour covered the dummy's shoulders and could be held in place by bringing it forward and clamping it under her arms. Magnetically drawn into the shop, she surprised herself by asking the lady its size and price.

"Fifty pounds. At that price, it's a steal."

Barbara nodded. That was manageable. "And the size?"

"Try it on. It was tailored, so it's size isn't exact."

Barbara glanced at her watch. "I should be on the train. I have to go to work."

"It might be gone by tonight. We only received it yesterday."

Against her better judgment, Barbara acquiesced. "I don't suppose trying it on will hurt."

* * *

Tommy's head ached. He had continued his acquaintance with whiskey once he had returned from the pub. It was hard not to feel rejected, but he knew it was the ball and his social standing she had spurned, not him. If Barbara wanted to start dating by going to the movies, that would have to do. No point rushing things.

He wandered into the squad room. He had expected Barbara to be in half an hour ago. "Anyone know where DS Havers is?"

Most people shook their heads or shrugged. Only Winston shuffled about trying to look busy.

"Nkata?"

Winston looked up but hesitated. "Er, she rang to say she missed her train."

Tommy looked at his watch. "And the next three it seems. Send her to my office when she arrives."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

"The DI wants to see you. He noticed you were late."

"Thanks, Winston. He'll be fine. Don't look so worried."

"He looks... a bit unwell."

Barbara sighed. It was their code for his moody anger after he had been drinking. She imagined her refusal had played a significant part. She only hoped he understood she had not said no to moving their friendship forward, but to start with a ball? That had seemed too much. She took a deep breath then knocked on his door.

"Yes."

"Morning, Sir. Sorry I was late."

Tommy waved his hand dismissively as she walked towards his desk. He looked worried. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, it wasn't..."

Tommy cut her off. "I'm sorry about last night. I didn't think it through. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that."

Barbara stopped walking. "I shouldn't have been so rude. It was nice of you to invite me, and... if the invitation is still open, I'll go with you."

"Oh?"

Tommy's face drained of colour then flushed red. Barbara winced. She apparently had misread him, and now had wasted £50. "Sorry, I understand. You've invited someone else." She turned to leave.

"No. Wait. I haven't. You'll come? To the ball? Are you sure?"

Barbara turned back. "Yes. If you want me to go."

"I do."

Tommy smiled at her so fondly that her insides liquefied. Barbara put her hand on the back of his visitor's chair to steady herself. What have I done? "Good," she squeaked.

"Very good," he replied, his eyes never moving from hers.

"Yeah."

"Mmm."

Barbara knew her face was red. She could feel the blood under her skin boiling. "I should go... work..."

"Mmm..."

"Okay then... I'll see you later."

"Dinner?"

"Sorry?"

"Dinner. Tonight. There's a new Italian ristorante I'd like to try. I thought... if you're hungry..."

Barbara nodded. Was this a real date? "Er... Yeah. Sure. After work..."

Tommy grinned at her. This time it was one of his cheeky, teasing smiles. "That's when I usually eat dinner."

"Righto. See you later. I... work..."

"Yes, I should do some too."

Tommy was still grinning at her as she backed out of his office. She stood against his door and took a few moments to compose herself.

* * *

Tommy was unsure what to expect as he rubbed his hands down his trousers then knocked on her door.

"Hang on. I can't get into my dress."

"Can I help?" Tommy screwed up his face as he imagined how that had sounded to Barbara.

Instead of abuse the door flew open and green silk swirled in his face. "There's a hook, but it's too hard with my hands shaking."

Tommy pulled both edges of her dress together, trying hard not to stare at the unblemished alabaster of her back. It was like a fine sculpture, and he wanted to run his hands over it. He swallowed hard and tried not to let his fingers brush her skin as he hooked up her dress. "Done."

"Good. Come in." The swirling green disappeared down the hallway ahead of him. "Am I running late?"

"No, I'm early."

"Okay. I just need to find my shoes. I put them somewhere in here."

"Stop a second. I bought you this."

Barbara turned and frowned. "Me?"

Tommy could not help but laugh at her reaction. Then he looked at her. In her green gown, her hair looked redder, and her eyes were like emeralds. Momentarily, he stopped breathing. "You look stunning," he finally managed. He walked over to her and handed her a small gold-wrapped box. "I... I should have bought emeralds."

Barbara took the box and looked down. "Should I have bought you something?"

Tommy knew her well enough to know buying her a gift was tricky. "No! I... the man usually buys his guest something small as a token of thanks. I hope you like it."

"Thanks." Barbara removed the wrapping paper with unusual care. When she opened the box, her jaw flapped up and down, but no words came out.

She looked up at him, and he melted. With great restraint, he did not pull her to him and kiss her. "I thought you might like them."

"I do. Please tell me they're paste. I could never wear real diamonds."

Tommy reached out and touched her hand as it cradled the box. She was shaking. "Yes, you can. I think tonight is the perfect time."

"Okay."

Barbara turned and walked into her bedroom. Tommy stayed in her lounge. She was back within the minute, an awkward smile right across her face. "They're exquisite."

Tommy studied her carefully. The earrings were the perfect size for her ears. Her gown was a season or two behind the fashion, but it fitted her perfectly, hugging curves he never knew she had and yet being suitably modest. One day he would ask her about the dress, but not tonight; she was far too self-conscious and nervous. "They suit you. You look stunning, Barbara."

Barbara's neck and face blushed. "Thank you, Sir. You don't scrub up too bad yourself."

"Tommy. Please, tonight call me Tommy."

Barbara looked as if she was about to call the whole thing off then she smiled and looked down. "Tommy."

His name had a musical sound the way she said it. He wanted to hear her say it over and over. To whisper it. To cry it out. To say it while they did something as mundane as grocery shopping. He never wanted her to call him anything else again. "See. It's not that hard. Got your shoes?"

* * *

Lord Pakington was the most boring man Barbara had ever met. Ex-military of some sort and a widower, he had no conversation beyond strong opinions on the reintroduction of the death penalty and conscription. He had her wedged into a corner, and her desperate pleas to Tommy were met with a huge smile. She gave him one last piercing look. It worked.

"Hello, James. I see you have captured my partner. What's my penalty for her safe return?"

Pakington thumped Tommy on the back and chortled something close to his ear before bowing to Barbara and promising to dance with her later. "I'd rather have my eyeballs tattooed," she said emphatically as the man strode away in search of his next prey.

She was doing her best to feign interest in the dull men and women associated with the charity. The only ones she liked were the workers dealing directly with the children. They lived in the real world. She was glad Tommy had a job that showed him different sides of life. Most of his lot were too insular, and cloistered in a fantasyland that bore no resemblance to her experience.

Tommy took her hand. "Do you dance?"

"Sort of. I can waltz."

"Excellent. Join me?"

As she expected, Tommy was an excellent dancer. She followed him effortlessly and felt secure in his arms. They sat out the dances she was not familiar with, taking the opportunity to mingle or have a drink. Each waltz though, he took her hand and led her back into the polished floor of the Savoy's ballroom.

As the evening wound down to a close, the music slowed. Barbara expected Tommy to stop dancing. Instead, he moved closer until she could feel his body pressed against her. Their leading hands retreated to rest against their chests, and Tommy's other hand slipped from her back down to lie just above her tailbone. She was not immune to the sensations of closeness. Without thought, her head rested against the lapel of his jacket, where she could listen to the soothing rhythm of his heart. When he laid his cheek lightly on her head, she sighed. She felt connected, emotionally and physically. Everything about it seemed right.

* * *

Tommy had noticed how brilliant she had been dealing with people he knew she would dislike. He had seen glimpses of disdain in her eyes, but she had disguised it well. As his plus one, she had been so much more than he had ever hoped she would be. Her instincts for character had kept her away from trouble. He suspected a few of his contemporaries wanted details of Helen's death and his subsequent fall from grace. The Oborne's had followed the very British tradition of hinting at great scandal by denying it but cutting him entirely from their circle. Barbara had always been overtly loyal to him, and he imagined she had quickly shut down anyone who wanted to gossip about him.

She was also a quick learner. He had observed her scrutinising people with her copper's eye and then replicating the behaviour. He had been impressed that within an hour she had learnt how to sit in a ball gown, how to manage canapés gracefully, and was speaking more slowly to better hide her accent behind more generic BBC pronunciations. She had seen him studying her once or twice and had rolled her eyes. He hoped that she knew how much he appreciated her efforts.

As they danced, he took the opportunity to comment. "You handled Pakington wonderfully well."

"The old fart has roaming hands. I thought about arresting him."

"I'm glad you didn't, but are you alright?"

"Fine. He's not the first creep I've met."

"Here, or generally?"

"Both."

Barbara allowed him to twirl her around. She was a much better dancer than she had indicated. As the music slowed and the lights dimmed, he pulled her closer to him. Around them, couples stole kisses, both short and affectionate, and a few considerably racier. Tommy wished he could follow their lead. No social rule said he could not kiss her, but Tommy did not want to share that first kiss, a moment he expected to remember forever, with a roomful of strangers. Instead, he savoured the feeling of being so close, in every sense of the word.


	2. Chapter 2

When the ball concluded, Tommy spent what seemed like an eternity shaking hands and making polite conversation. Barbara stood only inches from him, but decorum dictated that he could not hold her hand or put his arm around her. She was smiling politely and making the right noises and responses to the gaggle of chattering women that had gathered near the exit. He was dragged over to the men milling around closer to the staircase. When she caught his attention, Tommy could see the strain beginning to show around her eyes. He quickly bade his farewell and went to her rescue.

"Ah, excuse me, ladies. There you are, Barbara. I think our cab has arrived."

Barbara smiled at the women. "Nice to have met you."

The women responded then closed in a huddle as Tommy escorted Barbara to the door. Inquisitive eyes bored into his back, and he knew they were trying to decide whether or not he was taking her to Belgravia. He gave the cabbie Barbara's address as loudly as he could. The women waiting near the kerb would ensure that word filtered throughout his lot. He smiled; even he thought of them that way now.

"Thank you for inviting me. That was... a nice evening."

"My pleasure. Thank you for coming. I know it must have been tiresome at times."

"It wasn't too bad, although that woman in the purple dress with the feathers sticking out was a bit much. How long have you known Tommy? How did you meet? Did you know... Well, you get the drift. She used three peoples worth of 20 questions."

"I'm sorry. It was not supposed to be an inquisition."

"They're probably all talking about your bit of rough now. How could you stoop so low?"

"If they think that, they're the low ones. You are far more beautiful, inside and out than any of them."

Tommy saw her blush. He wanted to pull her over and kiss her then, but again, it was not a moment to share with a cabbie. He smiled and put his hand over hers on the seat.

Tommy helped her out of the cab then paid the driver. Fearing that seemed too forward, he gave her a reassuring smile. "I... will call another one rather than keep him waiting."

"You'd better come in then. Nightcap?"

"Yes, thank you."

Barbara's hands shook as she unlocked the door. She kicked off her shoes. One ricocheted off the skirting board and landed at his feet. Tommy laughed then bent down and lined them up against the wall.

"Sorry, but my feet ache like the devil. I'm not used to being all dolled up."

"You get used to it." He pulled on his bow tie and shoved it in his pocket then undid his top shirt button. "But it is nice to relax."

"Can you pour the drinks? It's all in the cupboard where I keep your whiskey." She pointed over to her kitchen. "I'll get out of this rig."

Tommy smiled. A classic cliche ran through his mind. He knew she was not being deliberately suggestive, but one day he hoped to be the one disrobing her. "Of course."

Barbara was back by the time he had found the bottle. "That was quick." He turned to see her still in her gown. The way the soft light caught the silk, she seemed to glow. There were no prying eyes now. He put down the glass and walked towards her.

"I can't reach the hooks." She turned away from him. "Can you do it?"

Tommy walked around the kitchen bench. He stood close as he traced his fingers along the line of her dress. Quickly finding the hooks, he paused before bending down and softly kissing the junction of her neck and shoulder.

"Oh!"

"Mmmm." He kissed the same place on the other side, then undid the two hooks and ran the back of his fingers over the newly exposed part of her back until they were blocked by her bra strap. As he bent down and traced a line of small kisses from the bottom of her hairline down her spine, he undid the bra and continued to kiss down almost to her waist. Barbara's body went stiff. Goosebumps raised on her skin, but her deep moan told him his advances were far from unwelcome. He slowly peeled the dress from her shoulders and ran his tongue along her collarbone.

He placed his hands firmly on her waist, extending his fingers across her front. He bent down and tracked kisses up her spine, moving his hands in pace with his lips until they were resting just under her breasts. As he waited for her signal that he could explore further, he continued to track kisses back to her shoulder and up under her ear.

Barbara swayed forward and braced herself on the bench, inadvertently forcing her tail into his groin. Tommy responded by rolling his hips. For a moment neither breathed as Barbara stood still pressed against him. Tommy sighed. This had moved too fast and was far removed from the gentle, romantic first kiss he had planned. He rested his forehead on the back of her head. "I should go."

"Oh. Yes, of course." She quickly pulled away. "Sorry."

He dropped his hands. "I'm the one who should apologise, Barbara."

She straightened up and put her arm under her breasts to keep her dress from falling but did not turn to face him. "No need."

"Barbara, I never meant for this to happen."

She turned. Her expression was unreadable, even to him. "Don't worry about it. I'll call you a cab."

They stood in awkward silence until it arrived. Barbara still clutched the open dress to her. Tommy wanted to kiss her properly, but her stance was defensive. She looked distressed. "I never meant to offend you, or hurt you, Barbara."

"You didn't."

When the cab pulled up and tooted, she opened the door. "Thank you again for a nice evening."

It sounded stilted. Tommy was at a loss as to how to make this better. He bent down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "It was a wonderful evening. I enjoyed your company very much." He turned and fled to the cab ruing his behaviour.

* * *

The next day, Barbara kept her phone off the hook and switched her mobile to voicemail. She noticed there were three messages from Tommy's number, but she could not bear to listen.

By Monday morning she had finished crying and had been able to listen to his apologies. She had forced herself to accept that it had been an aberration, that he had forgotten who he was with and had merely shown the womanising side of him that she knew existed. It had been far too easy to fool herself into thinking his actions were real. Even the reaction she had felt as they stood together was just a physiological response. She was only another woman, at least until he had realised who he was seducing and had stopped.

Her phone buzzed. Even though she knew who it would be, she glanced at the number. "Havers."

"Barbara, I thought you might like a lift to work."

"Save yourself the drive. I'm fine using the bus."

"If you look outside, you'll see I don't have to come far."

Barbara screwed up her face and clenched her fist. She quickly counted to ten. "Alright. I'll be out in a minute."

* * *

Tommy could see instantly that he had not been forgiven. "I wanted to apologise properly. I need you to know that I have the highest respect for you, and..."

She held up her hand. "Forget it. It was just a moment of madness. Now, Sir, I don't want to talk about it."

In fact, it seemed that she did not want to talk about anything. For the next three days, they avoided each other, and kept their conversations to a minimum, and always about their case. Tommy's resentment slowly built. He had been swept up in the moment, but he had done the right thing and stopped. He had apologised, yet Barbara seemed to be punishing him with her distance, and that stung, far more than he had imagined possible.

Just as she began to thaw, he grew angrier. He had barely slept, and his whiskey stocks had depleted significantly. He loved her, and he was being punished for showing her. "I can't help it if part of it is sexual. I shouldn't feel bad for wanting to make love to her," he said to his tumbler of single malt.

As usual, the whiskey provided no answers, but it did help him brood more efficiently.

* * *

By Friday, Barbara sensed that their friendship was at a crossroad. She decided that, as usual, she would have to start building the bridge. She knocked on his office door.

"Come in."

"Hiya."

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"I wondered if you'd like to come to the pub after work."

He did not look up from his computer. "Thank you, but no, not particularly. I'm..." He lifted his gaze and frowned. "I have other plans."

"At least you didn't say you were washing your hair. Righto, well, I'll see you on Monday. Have a nice weekend."

"I wash my hair every morning."

Their eyes locked, but there was no conversation or connection, just sadness. "Right then. Good night."

"Good night, Havers."

Barbara returned to her desk. She quickly packed her bag and hoped to slip away before anyone else suggested drinks.

"You okay?"

She looked up to see Winston wandering back from the main squad room. She flashed a quick, tight smile. "Yeah, fine. Have a good weekend."

"Hang on. You've been funny all week, and you and the DI are avoiding each other. What happened?"

Barbara felt tears beginning to build. She waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. Just a misunderstanding."

Winston put his coffee cup on his desk and walked over to her. "Did he hurt you?" he asked angrily.

"No! Not like that."

"I would have torn him limb from limb if he had."

She put her hand on his arm and smiled. "Thank you, Winston, but I just need a bit of time. I had begun to believe you, that he was interested. I was wrong. He... doesn't see me that way. We're just friends."

"Is that enough for you?"

Barbara rubbed the heel of her hand in a circle on her forehead to relieve a headache that was building. "It has to be."

* * *

Tommy stood at the end of the corridor and watched her walk away. He had come out to tell her he had lied and did not have plans, and suggest they go to dinner and talk. When he saw Winston walk over, he knew he was concerned for Barbara too. Tommy had not meant to eavesdrop. He was waiting for a natural pause to inject himself into their conversation. Gradually he had moved back into the shadows as it became clear what Barbara had assumed. He closed his eyes and shook his head, knowing he was a fool.

* * *

"Hang on. Where's the fire?"

Barbara opened her front door and nearly fainted. Behind an enormous bouquet of white, pink and cream roses was a body that looked decidedly like Tommy. "Hello, Barbara."

"What the hell am I supposed to do with two dozen roses?"

"There's three dozen and one. Cream for apology, pink for friendship, white for new beginnings and a single red one in the centre. You could put them in a vase."

"Wait there." Barbara shut the door in his face.

Muttering a few curses under her breath, she thought about exactly where she wanted to put the roses, thorns and all. The thought of him with all the flowers hanging out of his backside made her smile. She was still angry, hurt and disappointed that their friendship would go no further, but at least they were finding their way back to each other.

She returned with a bucket, half expecting him to have left. Tommy was still standing on her doorstep with the roses, looking uncomfortable and silly. She had to smile. "You'd better come in."

"I wanted to apologise. I've been trying all week."

She took the roses and shoved them into the bucket then filled her kettle with water and pushing back the heads, poured it gently into the bucket. "Well?"

"Nice vase."

Barbara looked up. "It's what we working class do."

"Where did that come from?"

"It's what you were thinking. I'm sorry if I used the wrong fork, or was a bad dancer, or said something stupid, but I am what I am. I wanted to think that I could do it, but... I'm sorry if I shamed you."

Tommy walked over and gripped her upper arms, firmly but with a gentleness that made her look up. "You were brilliant the other night. You are a good dancer, and I was not ashamed or embarrassed by you. Quite the contrary. I was in awe of how beautiful you looked and how smoothly you navigated the night from that odious Pakington to the scheming matrons of Mayfair. You were magnificent."

"Then... I... I was upset because I had let myself think that when you unhooked my dress... that... that it meant... I wanted to believe it was real. When you realised it was me and stopped, I felt... humiliated."

Tommy released his grip, but before she could escape, he had wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. "I'm sorry. I never meant that. I did stop because I realised it was you, but not for the reason you think. All that night I wanted to kiss you. I wanted it to be private, just between us, and memorable."

"I don't understand."

"If I'd continued... You deserve so much more than a lust-filled rush into bed if we even made it beyond your kitchen bench. I wanted to make love to you so much that I stopped while I could trust myself to stop."

"You... wanted me?"

Tommy's hug tightened, threatening to cut off her air. "Yes, but not in a sleazy way. I love you. I want a future together. And I want to make love to you the way you deserve."

Barbara pushed away from him. She walked across the room to the window and looked out onto the street. "Why the hell didn't you say that the other night instead of letting me think I was so repulsive to you that you couldn't even have a one night stand with me?"

"I... no, I never meant that. I wasn't prepared that night. I couldn't do that to you."

She spun around and glared at him. "You weren't prepared? What are you? A bloody Christmas turkey?"

"No! Not like that. I was thinking of you. Because my intentions were honourable, I didn't buy any... why must you make this so awkward?"

Barbara scowled. "Maybe if you completed your sentences it wouldn't be as awkward."

"In plain English? I love you. I wanted our first kiss to be special, not rushed and hungry on the way to satisfying more basic urges. I wanted us to make love to each other slowly and without fear and inhibition. I hadn't expected you to need help taking off your dress, or that your skin would be so smooth and enticing. I hadn't expected to want you there and then so badly. Lust got in the way. Yes, don't look at me like that. I find you incredibly sexy. You have beautiful eyes, and when you look at me, you radiate a beauty that I cannot even begin to describe. And I could have so easily made love to you on Saturday, but I didn't buy any condoms because I had intended to court you, not race you to bed."

"No condoms? You walked out without a decent explanation because you didn't have condoms?"

"I didn't want to put you on the spot or feel obliged to take a risk to make me happy."

"And you didn't think to ask if I had any?"

"No! Why would you?"

Barbara stormed over to her kitchen bench and rummaged in her bag. She found the pack and then threw them at him. "Because we'd been getting closer, and I thought if ever anything happened, I didn't want you to feel I was trying to trap you. I wasn't. I love you, Tommy."

Tommy picked up the packet and put it on the bench. He opened his arms. "Come here."

Fighting it any longer felt futile. Barbara stepped into his embrace. He closed his arms tightly around her, and she grabbed him. They clung to each other, silently wiping away their anger and fears.

Tommy's lips were near her ear. "We were both thinking of the other."

"Do you still want to try? We could start again."

"Yes. I want to do more than try, Barbara. We just have to talk more about what we're thinking, rather than just do what we think is right."

"Then kiss me. The way you wanted to then..."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded then bit her lip. "Then make love to me. I don't think slow is feasible. Not the first time. We have too much..."

"Desire?" Tommy said as he nuzzled into her neck.

"If that's the polite way of saying pent-up tension." She gestured towards the packet. "It's a six-pack, so we could spend the night satisfying all our needs at several different speeds."

Tommy laughed. "Six times? Do you have Viagra as well?"

"Will you need it?"

Tommy shook his head. "Definitely not."

He bent his head to hers. Butterflies took flight in her stomach. His lips seemed to be shaking as he gently lowered them onto hers. The kiss was brief, and they broke apart laughing. Tommy took her face in his hands. As they looked at each other, all the past disappeared. When he kissed her again, she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Slowly, they explored and deepened their kiss. It was as memorable as he had promised. She grabbed the packet, and they kissed their way towards her room.


End file.
